


What Doesn't Kill You

by Dancewithknives



Category: overwatch
Genre: A - Freeform, Crying, Doesent, Fanfic, Guy - Freeform, Human Gabriel, Mom Ana Amari, Overwatch - Freeform, Protective Gabriel, Sad, Warzone, Young Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, dick - Freeform, gets, in, kicked, kill, the, what, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-17 00:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancewithknives/pseuds/Dancewithknives
Summary: In her first deployment with Overwatch, a young Angela Ziegler learns that what doesn't kill simply makes you stronger.





	What Doesn't Kill You

What doesn’t Kill You  
Written and Edited by:  
Dancewithknives

“So… you want to insert with us?”

“Yes.”

“Into a combat zone?”

“Yes.”

“Completely unarmed?”

“Yes, Commander Reyes. I believe we are on the same page, no?” Answered the Swiss Doctor. 

The hover transport darted across the skyline, skimming over the pine trees as they headed towards the city which stood in the forested Bosnian countryside. Inside, Dr. Angela Ziegler -Mercy- sat strapped into one of the seats wearing a white combat robe and pair of metallic angel wings. Her young angelic appearance clashed with her fellow passengers, all wearing standard issue blue Overwatch Armor or their dark grey Blackwatch equivalents, but none the less all heavily armed.

“Yeah…” Blackwatch Strike Commander Gabriel Reyes replied, scratching his head, “I understand what you’re getting into, but have a feeling that you don’t.”

“Violence and fighting cannot always be our solution, Commander.” She said, “Compassion and our love for our fellow man is what separates us for the beasts we once were. What will the civilian population we are here to relieve think if the only thing they see is our rifles?”

“Spoken like a true idealist.” Said Captain Amari. The Egyptian woman sat opposite of the doctor, likewise strapped in beside her rifle, affixing her earpiece and tuning it to the multiple channels they would be using for the duration of the operation.

“I am a doctor, not a fighter. If I require assistance I will have two of your men there to protect me.” She said, pointing at the two stoic Blackwatch recruits sitting beside her. 

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, “Oh god, you really want to do this, don’t you?” The doctor nodded intently, “well, it looks like I can’t change your mind.” He groaned. “You can set down with the rest of us, on one condition.”

“Yes. Anything.”

Reyes turned to one of his trooper and put out his hand, “Sidearm.” He ordered. The man immediately removed a pistol from his drop leg holster, checked the chamber, safety, and then handed it grip first to his Commander. “Keep this on you at all times.” He ordered, chambering a round and handing it to the Swiss girl.

“I’d rather not-” She started, but the look in Reyes’ eyes told that he wasn’t going to budge. Reluctantly, she took the weapon, wrapping her finger around the trigger and aimlessly pointing it in front of her as she looked for a place to secure it on her persons, causing the rest of the cabin to become very uneasy.

Ana, the main recipient of the pistol’s possible accidental discharge, sat as cool as a cucumber, looking at the Doctor toying with the weapon. “So,” she asked, “You know how the safety works?”

Mercy looked up, pointing the gun down at her feet as she spoke to the sniper. “Um… Yes! Yes, it’s the onboard UI that keeps the weapon from firing at friendlies, correct?”

Everyone present who wasn’t afraid of being killed in transit to a warzone facepalmed.

“Reyes, take the gun back.” Said Ana. Reyes, although of a superior rank, did as asked, his respect exceeding the military formalities. “Here,” Ana said, pulling her own sidearm out of a webbed holster on her chest. Unlike the previous weapon that was big and bulky, dwarfing Angela’s thin but long fingers, this one was much smaller and quite thin. “Glock 80. Safe Action Trigger. Keep your fingers out of the guard, and when its time to shoot just pull the trigger and make sure you’re aiming at something that deserves it.”

The relief of being relieved of one gun was squashed when Angela was gifted with another. More careful this time, she took the weapon and kept her finger away from the trigger. Much smaller, Angela unzipped the front waist pockets on her suit and slipped the handgun into the empty compartment, zipping it up and dealing with the uneasy feeling of the death machine cling to her side.

With that out of the way, Angela forcibly cheered herself up and said, “Thank you for your consideration, Captain. With all due respect, I sincerely hope that it stays there until I give it back to you when we’re done here.”

“That makes two of us.” Scoffed the Captain.

“And three.” Added Reyes.  
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Like a lioness watching her cubs, Ana Amari perched herself at the top of a belltower high above the rest of the city. From here, she had an almost unhindered view of the entire area that the operation would take place in. With only a few steps or shift of perspective, she could provide covering fire for the beachhead aide center Overwatch had established to the south, or the spearhead that Blackwatch had plunged into the heart of enemy territory. 

She had a spotter with her, but at her request the man sat a few bends of the staircase below, watching her back for any would be assailants. She worked better alone, all she really needed was some good binoculars, a better rifle, and solitude.

She was sweeping the backlines of the Blackwatch advance with her binoculars when the earpiece in her left ear came alive, beeping as a person began broadcasting on the public frequency. Ana set her finger to the earpiece and switched frequencies until she connected with the other end.

The sound of gunfire filled her ear. She felt the urge to duck, but her free ear was free of the banging, telling her that she was not under fire. Soon after that, a panicked voice yelled, “This is agent Mercy of Overwatch. I’m in trouble. Please help!”

“Damnit Angela, what did you get yourself into?” Ana thought. Switching to broadcast, she replied, “This is Captain Amari, where are you? Where is your escort?”

“We were separated! I- AH!” A zinging shot must have just whizzed past her microphone. 

“Where are you? I’ll send help.”

The labored sounds of the doctor panting filled the mic. After that, the sound of a door slamming and other collisions followed. “I’m in a stairwell of the old hospital. I think I’m safe for now. ” 

Ana shifted her view. She had already memorized where the 4 story hospital was between the Blackwatch and Overwatch lines, a very easy landmark for her to base further observations on. 

“Alright, I know the place. Which end of the building are you on. How many are there?” 

“I… I don’t know… Um… North, I believe. But I’m not sure. I think its just one man.”

“Hold on, I’m sending someone to rescue you.” Ana flipped her frequency on the earpiece’s dial, not having to think about who or what channel she was going to, for she had memorized all active frequencies and who would be in each section of the city. “Commander Reyes, do you read me?”

The response was immediate, “Reyes Here.”

“Dr. Ziegler is trapped in the northern staircase of the hospital in your sector. Suspected one hostile. Requesting immediate extraction, over.”

“Rodger, on my way.” He said. He began shouting orders to the rest of his men, but Ana had already switched frequencies to the doctor.

“ANA! HE’S COMING! HELP ME!”

Ana dropped her binoculars and shouldered her rifle that had been sitting beside her. One hand on the trigger shouldering the rifle and the other on her earpiece, she shouted back, “Angela get to open ground and look for the belfry to the south!” 

“The roof!” Angela shouted and kept repeating until Ana switched the radio back to her old friend. 

“Commander, The doctor has one hostile in pursuit and is making her way to the roof, over.”

“Rodger, double timing it.” He replied. 

Ana scanned the rooftop, watching the rooftop staircase access on the north side of the building for signs of the Doctor. The north end was opportune sniping material. It housed the landing pad for a helicopter, so besides the flat platform there were no obstructions. The sniper watched and waited, but did not see the doctor. Ana flipped back to the open channel and asked, “Mercy, have you made it to the roof yet?”

“Yes.” She responded, out of breath and panting. “But I haven’t found the bell tower yet.”

Ana began searching with her rifle’s scope. Soon after, she found the doctor on the west side of the hospital, her white armor sticking out against the charred grey of the scarred building. The doctor stood in an opening just outside the access point, but she was in a bad place. Large Air Conditioning units dotted the western portion of the rooftop. Being that she was incorrect with her bearings, she had to scan the entire skyline to find the landmark that Ana had instructed her to look for. 

The sniper chimed in, “Doctor, I see you, at your 3 O’ clock.” The young woman listened and turned as instructed, seeing the structure and waving, forgetting that Ana had already mentioned that she found her. “I’ll keep you covered, help is on the way.”

The Doctor brought her hand up to her ear to respond, but froze in position. Ana watched as she slowly turned to the door and began backing up. “Ana,” She whispered, “He’s here.”

The safety on the rifle was deactivated. Captain Amari aimed a few hashmarks on her rifle in front of the Doctor, moving with her as she began to slowly back away from the door. The sniper watched, but felt her blood run cold as she realized that Angela was backing up next to an A/C unit, the big bulky utility device blocking her line of sight. Ana broadcasted again, speaking in a calm, direct, but very stern voice. “Angela, listen to me very carefully. Stay out in the open.”  
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The lights of the bombed out hospital had been dormant for at least a month, the emergency lights in the staircase had long since been died out. Like a spirit made from the blood and ashes of conflict, the silhouette of a man stood in the darkness, the ashes and burned dust molded his form to blend with the destruction with the city around them.

He stood a step before the doorway looking at her with nowhere else to run, his rifle still smoking from the failed attempts on his quarry. Angela backed up a step, holding her staff close to her chest, trying to put something, anything, between the two. “I- I’m here to h-help.” She stammered, “I’m ju-just a doctor.” She took another step back, grip tightening around her healing staff. The only thing she could clearly make out where the white of his eyes, but they weren’t a man’s eyes. They were cold, thoughtless, and instinctual, like a machine made of bone and muscle. 

There was a click, and the man first removed his supporting hand from the weapon before discarding it on the floor in front of him. Mercy froze, not knowing how to interpret what he was doing. Was he surrendering? Trying to make peace? Extending an olive branch before leading her to where people needed her help? 

He then removed a bandolier from over his shoulder, discarding the harness and large knife on the ground next to him. He then balled his hands into tight fists, cracking the knuckles in each finger. 

Mercy shrunk, lowering her head to her shoulders and bringing the healing instrument up to now block her face with its thin shaft. With the bravado of a church mouse, she mumbled, “I d-don’t want to h-hurt you…”

She took another step back, but then she jolted to her side, the heel of her shoe slipping on rubble and knocking her off balance. She over compensated with her other foot, slipping further and the opposite heel failed to meet evenly with the ground, sending her back first onto the rooftop. 

Moving at a breakneck speed, she yanked her head up and let out a yipe as she saw the shadow pounce. Soon after, a fist met her face, propelling the back of her head into the concrete and filling the midday sky with stars.

The impact was so great that her earpiece flew from her ear, and her staff roll away; out of reach. Before she had a chance to get traction between the ground and her hands or feet, he was upon her, wrapping his hands around her neck and squeezing with a grip that rivaled that of a vice.

Mercy’s hands shot up to the noose made of bones and joints and began clawing at it, her petit but long fingers trying to snake their way past thick dirty digits that felt as if they had completely separated her head from her shoulders. Her legs convulsed, trying to do everything they could to help her, but were of no use, only taking up vital energy away from her hands as her heart raced the fastest it ever had, trying to relieve the swelling that made her head feel as if it were about to pop.

The Valkyrie suit did the best it could, but to no avail. Nanobots were deployed to a crushed larynx but could do nothing to prevent the blockage. 

Angela’s toes went numb, her throat dead, and head felt aflame. She did all she could, but knew the inevitable was coming. Another Ziegler was going to join the ranks of doctors who lost their lives in warzones, off to make a difference in a place that they knew they didn’t belong but stubbornly persisted anyway. The fear, the hurt, the pain of not being able to see her loved ones again, was that what her parents felt? When her father was executed face down in the dirt and mother had the life smothered from her eyes, were they thinking of her like she was thinking of them? Did they regret the mistake they had made, but knew that they wouldn’t be able to live with themselves if they had chosen otherwise?

Her assailant was all she saw crouched over her, sure to make her a personal tally to his list. Now, as she looked up in his eyes she did not see the iris of a mechanical man intent on only killing. Now, as she looked up into the cold whites above her, she saw the embodiment of The Fourth Horseman entering into the physical world, coming to claim another soul in its conquest for the apocalypse. 

For as much as she hated it, she knew there was nothing she could do. She began to grow cold, the sky became dark, and her view became hazy. 

But, from fading confusion came a voice, reaching out from the doorway that death had begun opening. She knew the voice. It was mother, reaching out to her from the other side to leave her a message.

Keep. Fighting. 

Her hands darted away from the lost battle for her neck and began tapping around her abdomen, feeling for a small piece of metal. Although her fingers were sweated wet, the carbon fiber gloves of her bodysuit gripped with easy traction on her front pockets as she ripped the zipper down, bending it free from the rest of the assembly.

Angela’s hand darted inside. Hopefully, whoever was watching over her would forgive her for what she was about to do.

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Ana knew what was to come. She inhaled a deep breath, steadying her rifle the best she could and waited in anticipation. She set her sights for the round to pass right in front of the doctor and waited. Sure enough, a shadow burst from the stairwell access. In the time it takes for a human heart to beat, Ana exhaled, became as steady as a stone, and took her shot.

And missed.

She swore and readjusted, but to no avail. All she could see was the doctor’s head, poking out ever so slightly from the far side of the air conditioning unit and a glimpse of hands, choking the life from her. 

“Angela, hold on!” she shouted, switching the microphone to a different channel. “Gabriel. You need to get there, NOW!”

“I’m working on it!” he called, now sprinting as he spoke.

Ana returned to her rifle, searching for any line of sight on the attacker but had none. All she could do was watch as the life of a young woman was drained before her eyes. As a sniper, Ana had lived with the great power that she held over the battlefield, but accepted the weakness that it forced upon her. All she could do now was watch in torment as a purple hue began to spread across Dr. Ziegler’s face.

“GABE!”

“ALMOST THERE!”

Ana switched her channel back to Mercy. If this was how it was going to be, she wasn’t going to let Angela face it alone. “Hold on for a little longer, Angela. Gabe’s almost there. Keep fighting. KEEP FIGHTING!”

Ana saw a slight flash, and soon after a very soft pop, the distinct report of small arms fire from long range. Ana’s microphone came back to life and filled her ear with the sound of a scream. It was that of an animal having been backed into a corner gathering the courage to face their attacker and show them that they may have been smaller, weaker, and had less teeth, but they were prepared to die fighting.

Another shot was picked up by the radio, and then another, and another, and another, and another, and another. As Ana watched down her scope, she saw life return to Mercy’s face as she rolled herself out from underneath the man, hold a black pistol in her hand. 

“Good job.” Ana whispered.

She switched her radio back to the Commander and spoke once more. “It’s over Commander, she’s safe.”

“Are you sure? What’s her status?”

“She’s definitely going to need a minute. But I think she may need to find a safer place to clear her head.”

“Rodger that.”

Ana switched her radio back over to the doctor, and jumped as the sound of distant sobs filled her ear.

She set the rifle back down and reached for her binoculars, using its enhanced zoom to get a better look at the angel in distress.

Sure enough, her radio had been knocked away in the struggle, but was still broadcasting. With a clear view, Ana watched as Angela was on her hands and knees, crying as clotted saliva and hot tears fell to the ground.

Ana did not disapprove of her reaction. Humans were designed to avoid danger. It took a special kind of person to go towards it. Even she, having come to terms with the unlikeliness of her survival on her first operation, was shaken by the crucible of combat. This was nothing to be ashamed of.

Heaving as her airway was unconstructed once more, Angela pitched herself up and cried up towards the heavens, allowing the world to know what she had just done. The radio came back to life once more, and Ana listened as Mercy kept trying to call out a single word through her anguish, “Mutter!”

In all her years of sniping, ending lives with a twitch of her finger, nothing had caused Ana’s blood to run as cold as she was in that one moment. No matter how brave or brilliant the Doctor was, Angela Ziegler was still only 17 years old, still just a girl calling for her dead mother. 

Fareeha was only nine short years younger. Ana watched with horror as Angela fell to her side and rolled up into a tight ball, pistol clenched in a fist as she cried into her knees. She felt an urge, an instinct from deep within her that every mother shared burn within her. She wanted to be there, to hold her in her arms and protect her sobbing face from the cruel world as she whispered to her that everything was going to be alright. 

But she couldn’t. All she was right now was a sniper in a belfry, watching a Swiss doctor alone on a rooftop crying for mommy.

The sobbing slowly fell to whimpering, and then slowly turned to nothing as Ana watched Angela unfold from the ball she was in and rose from the ashes, first standing with her hands on her knees and then stand on her own two feet, wiping the tears from her eyes.

She had spunk, Ana would give her that for sure. Watching through her binoculars, Ana reached her hand out and mentally cleaned the dust and debris from her soft cheeks.

A slight limp from a pulled leg and the fresh blood returning to her feet, Angela staggered her way over to her staff and picked it up off the ground. Test firing it to make sure it was functional, she used the long device to steady herself as she returned to the Air Conditioner unit. 

Ana kept watching for her, but was confused as she returned, dragging the man who had nearly murdered her away from the scuffle and into the open. 

“What are you doing, girl?” Ana thought.

Standing at where his head was, Dr. Ziegler pointed the head of her staff at her would-be assailant and activated the stream. Befuddled, Ana watched as yellow healing energies coursed through the man and sunk into the holes in his chest, continuing to flow in until the wounds were no more. His eyes opened, and the man reached his hand up to feel his face. 

The man sat up, dazed and confused as to what had just happened. Ana became tense as she felt the urge to grab her rifle, but as she was about to do so, the head of the Caduceus Staff was brought down on the attacker’s temple. 

Ana zoomed out a tad to view the full picture as the pretty, blonde, Doctor stood with both hands on the healing instrument and used it as a mallet, repeatedly landing full swings from over her head down upon the attackers head, each one making the old woman’s smile grow wider with each repetition. The first bonk to his head left him dazed and confused, but the repeated strikes set him back on the rooftop.

Either heaving from the glorious whooping that had just occurred or from not having fully recovered from being strangled to death, Angela slowly walked around her “patient” and stood at his feet.

“No…” Ana muttered, “You wouldn’t…” she declared.

Slowly, Angela separated his legs, opening them up into the Spread Eagle position. She took one step in, and then reeled her foot back.

Far away in the belltower, Ana’s spotter woke from boredom as the sound of laughter filled the air.

Still reeling from the hardest belly-laughter she had ever felt, Ana called out, “Atta girl!” from her perch. When she calmed down, she turned to her radio once more and called the Commander, “Reyes I think *heh heh heh* I think she’s okay now. Take her home.”

There was a pause, and then the response, “Okay… what’s got you giggling like schoolgirl all of a sudden?”

“It’s nothing,” Ana replied, still smiling in a warzone, “Just… when you see her, I want you to ask her something for me.”

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Commander Gabriel Reyes was standing in the stairwell one floor below the rooftop access door. Leaning against a wall with gun in hand and cigarette in another, he turned his head to the flight above when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He dropped his smoke and stepped on it as Mercy came into view.

“Oh, hello Commander.” She said.

“You mind telling me-” he started, but then spat out, “Woah, what the hell happened to you?”

The doctor stood for a minute with a naïve and confused look on her face, and then reached into her pocket and pulled out a makeup mobile. Gabriel knew it was too dark to see a reflection, but watched anyway as she touched the dust still on her face, smeared makeup, and winced at the bruises still not healed around her neck. 

“A run in with an unruly patient.”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, rolling his eyes, “sure. Medivac is on its way, they’ll take you back to base to get looked at.”

With one of the same smiles that she used when she first insisted on joining the forward unit, Dr. Angela Ziegler raised a gloved hand and said, “thank you for your consideration, Commander. But that won’t be necessary. I still have patients that may need me out here. There’s no time for rest.”

Reyes leaned down to get on the level with the young Doctor. With a laser look that cut through the façade and a deadpan tone, he asked, “Really.”

“Yes, really.”

He pointed up at the floor above them, “Really?”

“Really.” She insisted.

While she was looking up, Gabriel flicked his fingers, tapping the doctor on the bruised neck, causing her to jump and cover the sore spot with her staff and the handgun that she had forgotten was in her hand.

Gabriel snatched the gun away, removing the empty magazine from the gun and repeated again, “Really.”

Mercy gave a deep sigh and admitted, “Well, maybe another day. For now, I believe it may be best I accept your offer.”

“Good.” He said, beginning to lead the way down the stairs but then stopping once more. He turned back to the doctor once again with his finger pointed at her and said, “You’re radio’s busted… and Ana wanted me to ask you something… She wanted to know if you ‘hurt your foot’?”

Angela stopped, staff in both hands with a confused look on her face. After a second of considering what she met, Angela’s eyes lit up in the dark room as a genuine smile slid across her face. “Nope. Not one bit.”


End file.
